Don’t be blinded to the life we give to the dying

This is a poem based on a random title I wrote in my idea journal: Don’t be blinded to the life we give to the dying. As a creative writing exercise, I get into a “stream of consciousness” mindset and write down as many poem titles as I can in two minutes. I will look back at them later for ideas. For some reason this one stood out. It also gave me the image of a Mayfly. I hope you enjoy my poem!

Don’t be blinded to the life we give to the dying

Mayfly, a willing sufferer
dies to exist
just for a day or two
She comes to rest
where sun hits
a patch of soft grass ’till noon


You’ve laid your head there too
as a child on warm afternoons
Simply gone to sleep
dreamed of flying, gliding
over blades of sweetgrass in full bloom


Don’t be blinded to the life
we give to the dying


All the stories of sleep
are closer to warm than cold


You, the mayfly
on the edge of the meadow
with your eyes closed
mere moments in front of the next
passing storm

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